Scattered Rust and Stardust
by Nagasasu
Summary: Various Seth/Eirika WIPs. Six: Ballad. Scenes from the life of a runaway mercenary prince ss . AU.
1. Blind

Hello all and welcome to _Scattered Rust and Stardust_. It is my intentions of using this as dumping ground for my Seth/Eirika WIPs and various other pieces I feel do not fit within _Crossroad_. Seeing as there will be WIPs, I would rather have comments, thoughts, constructive criticism, and suggestions, rather than grammatical and spelling pointers. Regardless, any form of feedback is strongly encouraged and greatly appreciated.

Title: Blind  
Rating: T  
Summary: There is so much damaged and torn and mangled that cannot be replaced. Post-game. AU.  
Status: Complete

Started and Completed: 4 December 2007  
Last Edited: 10 September 2010 for formatting  
Word Count: 389  
Posted: 1 January 2009

Author's Notes: Although this is complete, I feel that the tone and style of this piece is too estranged from Crossroad's to be posted there. Influenced greatly by **Linay**'s Without Words.

* * *

They had found each other during the war, and that is what their bond is made of:

Blood stained upon their hands, the weight of the guilt, the weight of not feeling guilt at all; there is so much damaged and torn and mangled that cannot be replaced.

They complement each other well; what one has lost, the other has not. But more often than not, they are both missing something.

For her it is faith.

For him it is loyalty.

War stole their eyes and their hearts. So they do not see that they never really lost anything. Not completely, never completely. Things are just forgotten and buried, because faith and loyalty don't belong. . .

They are blind to the way he is faultlessly loyal to her, how she places her faith in him. Blinded through more than their eyes that they are more than just companions.

When they do realize, it is quiet, there are no bold declarations. Neither of them are strangers to falling into bed with empty faces at time; drink leads to foolish things, but drink lets them forget. They've fallen in with each other once or twice, and each time one of them awakens before the other, and leaves without a word.

They never mention these nights.

It is sudden:

"Do you ever think of going back?"

It is not in either of their natures to shy from the truth, so he responds soundly. "Yes."

"Do you want to go pay my brother a visit?"

"What are you going to tell him? You've been away a good many years."

"With you."

His voice is low and his eyes dark. "A Princess consorting with a disgraced Knights is hardly a way to return, Eirika."

She stops tracing the patterns on his back and sits up. "No, Seth, I meant that. . ."

He presses a kiss to her lips. "No, neither of us are suited to marriage anymore; we are too afraid of such commitment."

"But, we'll stay with each other, regardless."

"Yes, yes we will."

The two of them never marry.

The two of them stay with each other the rest of their lives, and when they are both old and dying, he asks her:

"We never were lost were we?"

"No," she says, bending down to kiss him, "we never were."


	2. Swordplay

Disclaimer: Fire Emblem does not belong to me.

Title: Swordplay - Prologue  
Rating: T  
Summary: In which Eirika learns to use a sword. Pre-game, eventual AU.  
Status: Incomplete

Started: 13 January 2007  
Edited: 27 April 2009  
Word Count: 1,270  
Posted: 27 April 2009

Last Edited: 10 Sept 2010 for formatting

Author's Note: This was the beginning of what was going to be my beserker!Eirika fic, but only this was written. Please also note that this was written around the first chapter of Crossroad, and the writing is a little embarrassing for me. Review replies will be located at the end of the chapter.

* * *

There are times when I doubt everything. When nothing seems certain and I want to scream and shout. Those are the times when I want to draw my blade and swing it down, ignoring the grace a rapier deserves, and let it destroy anything it should meet.

These are the times when I want to see blood running down my blade. I want to see it run in little rivulets down my blade and drip into puddles on the will-be blood-soaked ground. I want to feel the slippery blood on my hands, making it hard to grip my sword. I want to be able to smell that utterly distinct smell so clearly that I can lick it off my lips. I want to lick it off my blade and smile as the taste fills my senses and see the empty eyes of my enemy.

It scares me. It is not in my disposition to be so – Although I have fought in many battles and killed many soldiers, I have never enjoyed it. I never felt a sense of accomplishment or pride, only a deep sadness that I had taken someone's brother or sister. I enjoy practicing my swordplay, but only because it is necessary and no one is ever killed in these practices.

I am a calm person. When I was younger, I rarely ever threw fits. When faced with an upsetting prospect, I pouted a bit, and then went on with things, accepting them. That acceptance seems so strange now. On the rare occasion I _did_ get upset, I was _angry_; my temper was – and is – molten, slow flowing and scalding. There was little for me to do with that anger. I found no satisfaction in stabbing pretty designs onto pillows, or planning which feuding dignitaries should sit next to each other at dinners. No, I wanted to hit something and hear it smash with a satisfying crunch. . .

My anger was like the exotic candy Father would bring home; it sweetly melted in your mouth, and I always begged him for another. . . My fervor was fickle; Ephraim, Father, or Mother would always be around whenever it rose within me, and I knew they would be disgusted by my frightful behavior. Father and Mother never noticed those near fits I had, but Ephraim did. It was he who first encouraged me to pick up the sword.

His logic may seem flawed, letting a troubled child hold a sword, but no. He was absolutely right, and I am eternally grateful to him for it. He let me take the sword out of his hands and throw it around foolishly, trying to hit things. Then he would place his hand over mine and show me what I should have done. His strong voice was like the sound of the ocean, and the anger was washed away, worn away into smooth sand. His lessons helped me a great deal. Had he not offered me that opportunity, I fear the terrible lust would have risen much sooner.

I started fencing with Ephraim regularly, but soon after his fascination with the spear began. He still practiced swordplay with me, but my rudimentary skills soon matched his. Eventually, he stopped progressing with the sword completely with his tutors, and concentrated solely on the spear. He excelled at it, and I watched in wonder how he worked with it. Once, I asked him to show me how to use it. After grabbing it incorrectly and waving it around, I instantly decided I didn't like it. It was too long and too unbalanced; I often lost my grip and almost took off my head. It was nothing like his sword. . .

And so, Ephraim kept his spear and gave me his sword. I was quite delighted with it.

He told me he couldn't teach me anymore. I had learned everything he had to teach me and said I should get proper instruction. He said he was hardly a worthy substitute for a proper teacher. I knew he was correct, but was hesitant to agree; Ephraim had always taught me secretly. No one even knew that I had ever held a sword, let alone knew how to use it. I was afraid I would be laughed at for my ignorance. I was sure Ephraim praised me too much, and my skills were sorely lacking. So I politely refused, hoping to save myself the shame.

Of course, it didn't stay that way.

It was a cold, sunny day in spring when it happened. Ephraim couldn't spar with me that day, and I longed to see him work with his spear; it was a beautiful thing to see, its own art. So, I settled for the next best thing. I went to watch the soldiers and recruits, although at the time I didn't know the difference between the two, practice.

I stepped onto the wooden railing and leaned over to watch. The soldiers were dressed in ill-fit shirts and pants that were obscenely dirty, and their faces were covered with sweat, I could smell the stables and the sweat, but I ignored all of that. I watched with wide-eyed fascination at the difference in style. Some attacked without any care for defense, while others just defended. Some used axes, others used lances. And of course, some used swords.

One of the soldiers noticed me and nodded his head towards me, tapping his sword against the ground. His partner sheathed his sword and looked over to me.

He smiled and said, "Princess, what are you doing here?"

I replied honestly, "I wanted to see."

"You're always watching," he laughed. I had to agree whole-heartedly. Ephraim had started taking me to watch them since he started teaching me. Many of the soldiers regarded me fondly for coming every rest day; they probably missed their own daughters and sisters.

"It's not even rest day yet."

"I wanted to watch," I said again.

"Why don't you do more for a change?"

My life, then, took an inexplicable turn.

I looked up at him and replied with the exuberance only a child could muster, "Really!"

"Of course, Princess," he said gently.

I stumbled over the fence with my dress and shakily landed in the practice field. He handed me his sword. "Be careful," he said. "Although these are for wooden, for practice only, they still hurt."

"Alright."

I grasped the sword in my hand and looked at the soldier. He was young, really young compared to the other soldiers practicing. A recruit, I thought. His hair was a soft shade of red that looked nothing at all like the blood I craved. . . It was the shade of red sunsets, or sunrises. It was cut distressingly short and made his head look too large for his body.

Taking his partner's sword, he asked, "Ready?"

"Yes!"

He slowly walked towards me and I saw the hilt move for an attack on my left. I blocked it without thought.

It didn't take long for him to realized I had done this before, and his false slowness – he had some consideration for the fact I was wearing a dress and he wasn't – gave way to a smooth cadence. I tried blocking; I couldn't even hit him. It ended with my foot getting caught in my skit, and a gentle hit to my shoulder.

"Good job, Princess."

"Really?" I replied puzzled.

"Yes. Would you like to try again tomorrow?"

"Yes!" He smiled, and I made to smile, but I already was.

And so, I started learning how to use a sword, properly this time.

* * *

**Silvara**: "Muted sadness" was what I was going for. The reason the pacing is so quick is… well, that's why it was filed here; I never felt it was fully completed. There was a lot of development missing. Sigh. Thank you for reviewing!

**NewPaladin**: I agree the beginning is quite easily OOC, and I never wrote the backstory leading to this; that's why I put the chapter here. I don't feel it's really been completed. Thanks for the review!


	3. Blossom

Disclaimer: Fire Emblem does not belong to me.

Title: Blossom  
Rating: PG  
Summary: Can you really blossom into love? Arranged marriage, Modern Day AU.  
Status: Incomplete

Started: 29 October 2007  
Word Count: 909  
Posted: 13 December 2009

Author's Notes: This is all I've written, and it mostly covers the beginning. I like the dialog I wrote between Eirika and Tana, although, for some reason I keep imagining them as Kaoru and Misao from _Rurouni Kenshin_ in that scene.

* * *

"It'll be alright, Eirika. He's a fine young man; handsome, well-mannered, from a good family. . . Not to mention I hear he's hung like a—"

"Tana! I don't want to know those kind of things! And besides, shouldn't I be worried if he's been sleeping around—"

"Oh, no, no, no. Nothing like _that_ Eirika. You know, locker room stuff. . . Guys comparing—"

"_No, _Tana. I thought I made it clear that I don't like talking—"

"'—about these kinds of things. Goodness, Tana, isn't your mind on anything but sex?' I _know_ that's what you're about to say, so I'll just get on with it: But Eirika! You know the only thing I think of is your sexy twin brother! At which point you will reply, 'Please, Tana. Do you realize how strange it is for you to talk about my own brother like that?' Then I'll say that—hey! I'm not done yet!"

"Honestly, Tana, we've had this conversation enough times. . ."

"That's because we're such bosom buddies."

"Where'd you learn the word Tana?"

"Oh, darn. Was hoping you wouldn't notice. Yeah, it was Anne of Green Gables."

"Isn't that the one with the raspberry cordial?"

"Yes and didn't you find Gil so—hey! Don't try and change the subject!"

"Was I?"

"Yes, you were! You know it and I know that you know that I know that—"

"Tana. . ."

"There's no avoiding it. You're marrying him and that's that."

"Tana, I. . ."

"No, no. No need to explain. . . But, Eirika, you know that I. . . Oh, darn it. You know what I mean. I'm always here."

"Thanks, Tana, thank you."

- - -

The news had come out a few weeks ago. But honestly, she should have known it was coming for a long time.

_You're to marry afore spring._

It had been at the dinner table, and Eirika had set down her silverware and twisted her hands in the napkin she had folded into a candle.

_I see._

She quietly excused herself and washed her dishes and left. Driving was a truly marvelous thing.

She drove for hours. She drove until the sun had long set and the only lights were the lousy streetlights. But even those eventually disappeared as she drove into the country. She was the only car on the roads. Only one who'd even try to venture the midnight paths, but she wasn't afraid; she knew these roads.

She saw the familiar lights of Aunt Tethy's house and cut the engine. She cranked up the volume to the stereo and waited.

_It's too late baby, yeah it's too late. . ._

Soon enough there was Aunty Tethys knocking on the window. She rolled it down and looked at her.

"What's up?"

"I'm engaged."

"Oh dear."

- - -

She held the phone number in her hand and dialed.

"Hello?"

"Good evening Mr. ___, this is Eirika Renais. Do you have time for a cup of coffee?"

- - -

The first thing he noticed about her was that she had to be older than the nineteen years she had to be. Her posture, her air, all of it suggested an older woman. One that knew the ways of the world and was beginning to weary of it all.

That can't be her, he thought. She is too old.

But then she looked away from the window and at him. He knew, then, she was the only daughter of the corporate king Fado Renais. Only his daughter would look at her prospective husband like she was looking at a new company to acquire.

He found the seat across from her and sat down, placing his computer case to the right.

"Miss Renais, yes?"

"I am she."

He didn't know what to say. 'Hi, I'm your future husband. Nice to meet you?'

She spoke bluntly, "If we are to be married, I wanted to talk some things over before the official meeting with our parents."

"Like?"

"Like if you decided to have extraneous relationships during the course of our marriage, it would do well for you to stay our of my bed."

"What?"

"Mr. ___ I am speaking of affairs. If you engage in an affair with another woman, man, sheep, dog, I don't care, you are not sharing the same bed as I."

"Um, I don't think that will really be a problem."

"It's nice to know I am so enchanting."

"Um, Miss Renais, that's not what I. . ."

She quirked an eyebrow. "Also, you will no run my company. If you have plans to merely use me as a puppet you are sorely wrong. Likewise, if you do so, I shall do the same for your company."

"You haven't heard?" he said.

"What?"

"I am not the heir to my mother's company."

"Excuse me?"

"Joshua, Joshua Jehann, my step-brother, he's inheriting, not I."

"Then. . . those slimy two-timing backstabbing. . ."

As she continued to curse he flagged the waiter and ordered two coffees. When she was done with her tirade, she rubbed her eyes and said, "I suppose this is good news."

"Why?"

"Because I'm good friends with Natasha."

"_Oh._"

- - -

"You can grow to love him."

"I don't think so, Mother."

"That may be so, Mother, but what if he beats me? I cannot love a man like that."

"He won't, and you will."


	4. Traitor

Disclaimer: Fire Emblem does not belong to me.

Title: Traitor  
Rating: PG  
Summary: She had known from the beginning he was a spy and would-be assassin. The moment of revelation for two people.  
Status: Abandoned

Started: July 31, 2007  
Word Count: 717  
Posted: February 5, 2010  
Last Edited: February 5, 2010  
Author's Note: The final scene of what would have been a story where Seth is sent to spy on Eirika. And the original was waaaay cheesier ("I have been your knight since you first spoke to me" and "Become my knight and prince as I have been your princess.")

* * *

"I know."

His head snapped up in shock from where he knelt before her. He looked at her with wide eyes, his head slightly tilted with mouth parted. Know? How could she know?

"I knew from the beginning who you were."

He struggled for words, and then they came out all at once, "Then why?"

She placed her hands behind her back and turned to look at him, her heels shuffling across the tile. "I liked you."

"That was foolish of you, my Princess."

"Perhaps, but it is not foolish to put your trust in a kind, gentle, strong heart. You are worthy of my trust, are you not? Have you not noticed that even now, you say 'my Princess?' You didn't in the beginning. But now I am your Princess; in more ways than one."

He was bewildered and embarrassed. "But I may still betray you."

"If you betray me, then that is what will be. I will not fight you; I put those days far behind me."

"Then," his body tensed in hesitation, "it is true, that you were—"

"—a member of the army that specialized in things that required quick efficiency. Murder. Yes. I was. And now I repent for those days by trying to nurture this fragile peace." She walked into the small balcony overlooking the orchard.

He could not reconcile that she could be both princess and assassin, not with her standing with the sunlight on the edges of her blue dress, her hands in white gloves. "Your hands are only stained with the blood of one monarch; mine are stained with the blood of hundreds of ordinary people who stood in the way of my orders."

Her neck turned and she looked at him sadly. "If that is what you think I did, I will not disillusion you."

"Then the bodies in the castle—"

"Yes, they were my doing."

He stated the obvious, "We never guessed your skill with the rapier was so."

She remained silent, her eyes remembering. "It wasn't a rapier, it was an iron blade."

"I see."

"Seth, I have put the past behind me." He noted the change in her voice. "It seems you are trying to do the same as well. I believe you were going to _retire_ after this." She said the word very carefully, rolling each syllable in her mouth to enunciate it properly. "But you know there is no true end to this kind of life. They will always call upon you once more. Always once more. There are others amongst you who wish to leave this, do they not?"

"Yes. I take it you had a spy among us, then?"

She smiled. "Seth, I require a husband for this new era of peace. It is not for me, but for my people. The people will feel safer with a king and queen. My brother will reign as king, and I as queen. But the people would feel better if both of us married.

Her smile turned sad. "But my brother will never marry. That leaves me to provide the image of stability our nation needs. Seth, will you continue to stand beside me? I am not good with the way women carefully choose their words in courtship." His throat was tight and his stomach knotted; he'd never considered the past year a courtship, but perhaps that was what the careful game of strategy and deception he played had really been.

"I suppose I must be blunt. Marry me, Seth. Rule beside me. Although I marry for necessity, I would also do so for love. I love you, Seth. I believe, I would venture, that you feel as I do, but if you would do so out of duty, that would be too cruel. As I have been your princess, I ask you to be my knight and prince."

He rose from his feet with a push of his palm. He crossed the distance between them, his armor rattling, and grasped her by her shoulders and pulled her to him, holding her tightly against him as his arms came to rest at her waist.

"Yes, yes, a thousand times yes," he spoke into her neck. "I love you, Eirika," there was silence and then he spoke again, "I love you."


	5. Woman in Uniform

Disclaimer: Fire Emblem does not belong to me.

Woman in Uniform. He always did love one. Post-game.

Author's Note: This fic is completed, and a bit experimental. The white deer skin boots are a reference to Robin McKinely's _Deerskin_. There was a portion that while I liked, was OOC, and as such got cut. Also, as heads-up, I will be retitling this collection; any title suggestions are much appreciated (as are comments!).

Word Count: 391  
Started: March 23, 2008  
Completed: May 30, 2011  
Posted: May 30, 2011  
Last Edited: June 24, 2011

* * *

He always did love a woman in uniform.

_resplendent:  
white coat lined with blue linen_

He is clearly reminded of that weakness now.

_subtle:  
the many pins she's earned from the war_

She is the image of power and grace, crowned at last. The pins, ribbons, and medals she wears are only given to the most prowess of warrior and leaders across Magvel, and it is rare for the title to be bestowed upon a woman. But there is no question in anyone's eyes if she is deserving, she has won over even the most dour of the advisors.

_professional:  
the neat press of her slacks_

His chest feels ready to burst, he's proud of her. He can remember when she couldn't even comprehend what strategy, war, courage truly meant.

_feminine:  
her hair pulled away for once, the ends streaming down her shoulders, tied with silver ribbon_

Her people love her - the gold tassels show that. Each one a gift from a particular province, whose many-colored threads running through the gold.

_unique:  
the rare white deer-skin boots_

It is a strange sight, a strange occasion. They kneel before her, and then she kneels as they rise. It is an exchange, a pledge of their lives and devotion. And as is tradition, each may ask a question that will be answered honestly, without fear of retribution.

Seth wonders what she asks and what the other diplomats, officials, and officers are asking in their quiet voices. But whatever the answers, they are good, for every time they rise with a smile.

_mysterious:  
there is a silver ring on her right hand – a promise ring_

He is on his knees, waiting for her, and cannot help asking who the ring is for.

"You, of course."

He cannot bring himself to look up, can only reach out for her, hoping. He hears the rustle of clothing as her body folds down as he begins to rise.

He is still dazed as he looks down at her bowed head. He hears her intake of breath, "For the same reason you wished to carry me far away that night, if I asked to marry you, would you say yes?"

_he always did love a woman in uniform, they were confident, powerful, elegant, graceful, there was something intangible about it. especially this woman_

"I would," he says.


	6. Ballad

Disclaimer: Fire Emblem does not belong to me

Author's Note: This was going to be my mercenary/Mulan fic, but has now been abandoned. The poem was rewritten entirely (and was remarkably less cheesy), but the computer ate it. This was also originally written around 2007.

* * *

It's high time she descends from her ivory tower,  
Her innocence is no longer a boon.  
She can't understand why the world's turned red,  
Can't understand why she can't fight in a war with the  
People she loves.

So, she cuts her hair and steals what she needs:  
The rapier and pants, the horse and saddle;  
And leaves behind what she does not need:  
Her dresses and shoes, the gold and bronze.

She doesn't turn back as she douses the candle lights  
And takes a step forward; nothing will matter anymore but  
What lies ahead.

She enters the army and doesn't know what to do,  
She doesn't understand this world  
That's why she takes this world into her heart,  
Taking kindness and pain all together until she can't tell the difference.

When she takes the battlefield the little girl is gone,  
There's a soldier taking orders, staining her hands of her own volition.  
She doesn't see the faces, doesn't think about the families,  
Not until after does she scream.

She moves up the ranks, her hands buying her way up with the blood of others.  
Giving the orders now, she's precise and cunning, but she wearies of this life  
All she wanted was to protect and serve,  
Is this what she wanted?

She hasn't seen her family in years, and to her surprise the past arrives;  
Her father and brother appear and they can't believe what she's done  
They tell her to pack her bags and head on back,  
The battlefield isn't the place for her.

But she knows better, she knows there's no one who loves the people more  
That's why she mutinies, because they've lost sight of  
All the people dying so they can finish a blood feud -  
And no one could have been more loved:  
Ever loved and loyal to the captain, never the monarch.

She takes to the open road again, but this time she's not alone  
She has an entire company at her back

The years go by, her hair blows in the wind once more  
Her eyes haven't lost their faith, but the  
Grim set line of her mouth betrays her cynicism:  
There's no such things as happy endings

(But fate is kind)

One day a traveler comes,  
He says he's from the capital,  
He tells the company of long-awaited news, the false-king is dead, his daughter missing;  
Where is she to take the throne?

As she hears this, she grips the chair in dread,  
She never wanted the throne, that was for her brother  
But no one knows who she is, and she thinks all is well

The traveler stays, and she remembers all she's forgotten.

* * *

War was nothing new to Eirika. She knew that was how her country had been built; through war, expansion, and much much blood. But as all things are with children, she never fully understood it. No, not just children, many people in the kingdom of Renais had no inkling of what war was. It had been centuries since the last war, and Renais only suffered from minor skirmishes in which the casualties could be counted on one hand. Indeed, the people had forgotten of war.

But those who lived near the Carcinian border had not forgotten. And nor had King Fado. Although he was the former King's sole heir, he had been begotten out of wed-lock. And out of fear for his child, the former King sent him to the border where no one would know of his lineage.

He had been raised near the kingdom's disputed border with Carcino during the merchant country's political upheaval. There had been many raidings led by desperate Carcinian men who needed the food and supplies for their families. However, many were nothing more than mountain trash and raped and pillaged. Fado had grown up in a world where his family lived in constant fear of raidings, in addition to the threat that one day someone would learn of his lineage and seek to kill him.

The old King died, and in his will, it was revealed he had had a son begotten outside of his political marriage. In it, he legally recognized his son and this was witnessed and signed by several prominent ministers who would testify to its truth.

So, Fado was brought from hiding and became King.

Of course, not everybody was happy with this. The people were certainly glad, but some nobles were not, for they had been aiming to seize control of the throne.

King Fado brought forth great reform to Renais. With his odd upbringing, he had different and refreshing views to bring to the kingdom. It was a welcomed change by many of the courtiers who were tired of all the political liaisons and back stabbing.

And then the kingdom's bliss was two-foldl when their King married and gave birth to twins.

But I digress. This story is Eirika's. The younger twin, daughter of Fado the Gentle, sister of Ephraim the Courageous. Eirika who is forever immortalized as the woman without titles, because there were none to describe her.

* * *

So, it came as a surprise to Eirika when her father told her that he and her brother were going off to war. She was shocked; speechless, in fact. She tried to form words, but could find none that properly described her thoughts.

She had known that there had been more fighting than usual, more casualties than usual. But she thought nothing of it. She knew that there were rare years where these things happened, but nothing serious would occur to disrupt daily life. Now, she knew something serious was happening. For her brother to leave was one thing, she had been expecting that to happen for quite some time. But for her father to leave as well. . .?

"There is nothing else I can do, Eirika," Fado told her in soft tones.

She mutely nodded, and the next day both Fado and Ephraim rode off with the soldiers without any aplomb.

It was the day afterwards that the concept of war started to dawn on her. For months she had seen coffins being carried into the castle for proper ceremony, and then carried back out for a proper burial. They had meant nothing to her before, they were nameless people whom she had never met. But now they took on a new meaning, every coffin that she saw made her heart skip a beat in fear that it would be her father or brother.

The next few months went by uneventfully. The kingdom was being run by the Prince of Frelia, whose father was a good friend of Fado. Prince Innes and Eirika had always been on good terms, but she had always gotten along better with his younger sister who was closer to her age. She found being around Innes was uncomfortable; she felt as if she were being examined every which way and being found faulty in all of them.

Eirika felt very much alone. She wondered how her brother and father were doing, if they had been hurt, if Ephraim would be the same when he returned. However, Eirika's thoughts took a very strange turn one day.

She had decided to go out to the market one Sunday morning, because she felt like the castle was a tomb ready to seal her in. Eirika flitted through the market, buying two apples and giving one to a hungry looking girl who was peddling flowers. She wound her way through the crowds of people, content with an environment that was different.

Eventually, she found her way one of the numerous plazas where a traveling theater was performing. They had gathered a large crowd and Eirika pushed her way in to see better. She noted that the play had just started and took a bite into her apple.

* * *

The play was about a young woman in the desert kingdom of Jehanna back when the women were still required to travel with a man and married whomever their parents chose. The play opened with a young woman of marriageable age, Isabelle, telling her father she had gone to the desert to pray for her husband and that instead she had dreamed of swords and battles. Her mother interrupted her by saying the sword was a symbol of a man and that Isabelle would enter a battle to win her husband. Isabelle's father then silenced his wife and told his daughter he felt it was an omen that war was coming.

Isabelle's father had been right, because the next day the Queen's private guard came to their home and drafted her father back into the army, even though he had retired because his sword arm had been injured. Her father accepted his duty, because he knew the Queen must be desperate to accept a crippled man like himself.

Isabelle pleaded with her father not to go, but he insisted he would, he even asserted his right as her father, something he rarely did. Her mother was of no use either; she was of the old discipline and bent her will to her husband's.

On the night before her father was to leave, she snuck into his room and stole his sword and armor. She then disguised herself as a man to join the army in her father's stead even though she knew that the discovery of her sex would earn her her execution.

The rest of the play went on with grand swordfights and much action. Eirika was instantly enraptured for she could find herself relating to Isabelle on many levels. Towards the end of the play, Eirika noticed the time and regretfully left the play, for she had to return in time to take dinner with Innes.

* * *

Dinner was a droll affair. Innes spent half his time dictating to his assistant what needed to be done. Eirika thought she should've had a headache after the first half-hour; she never knew Innes could make running a country so boring, her father had always made it entertaining. . . The second half of dinner was spent with awkward small talk with the occasional fluidity of normal conversation, but those were rare and far between. Eirika escaped dinner as soon as was seemly possible and retreated to her room.

She reflected on her day, and her thoughts constantly returned to the play she had seen. And it was then that her mind first came up with the absurd idea that would be the catalyst to her legend:

Why didn't she go to join the army?

Eirika certainly had enough basic experience to qualify. She had been trained in the sword for many years, and eventually focused her studies on the rapier. She even knew basic lancework from Ephraim, and she could ride a horse which some soldiers couldn't do until they had trained. The thought appealed to her for numerous reasons. Freedom, adventure, the romance of running away, foolish reasons all of them. But her main reason was that she wanted to see the world for what it really was. She knew she was naive, and there was only one way to remedy that. . .

She made plans for her escape to the army. She drafted a letter to Tana saying she was going to visit her in Frelia for a couple of weeks, and in it, she used the old code they had used as children to tell her she was leaving but would be safe. She made all the proper arrangements to resemble a visit to Frelia, and wondered when she should leave, but that decision was made quite abruptly.

As she placed her hand on the door knob to exit her room for a leisurely garden stroll, she heard the servants whispering about something peculiar.

"Really? Marriage between those two Royals?"

"Yes! Who'd have thought? I never thought Prince Innes was so interested in her!"

"How could you have not noticed? He's always staring at her." The two broke into a fit of giggles.

"I heard he's going to propose tomorrow!"

Eirika shrunk away from the door, shocked. Innes was going to propose to her? But they had hardly had a decent conversation during dinner. How was she supposed to spend the rest of her life with him? With her family gone, she could not fall back on them to decline in her stead, and Eirika was a at a complete loss on how to let him down gently.

Eirika didn't want to get married, she had so many things she still wanted to do. She wanted to travel, see the world, experience first love, fight in the army! And that was when her decision was made. She told herself she was going to leave right away. She told herself she'd only be gone for a little while, and no one would know any better. One small taste of freedom before she shackled herself to Innes for the rest of her life. That's all it would be, a week of freedom, and then it would be over.

* * *

When all was said and done, Eirika was very tired. The knowledge that her kingdom was without a leader weighed heavily upon her mind. She had never wanted to rule; that had been Ephraim's role that he'd set aside his dreams of being a mercenary for. When her father had made the decision when they were younger, she had been a sensitive child who could never make terrible decisions.

She felt her brother was still alive. There were rumors circulating of a rebel alliance that was ready to overthrow the last of the usurpers, and that they were led by an aquamarine-haired man who carried a lance and sparkling bracelet. . . If Eirika had ever doubted her brother's life, her doubts were put to rest whenever she'd touch the Stone and find it warm.

Her company didn't need many commissions, there was enough disorder in Renais that any mercenary company could make a killing on it. But she felt it was time to the right thing. She called Colm to her side and told him she had a message for his more unsavory contacts. Colm frowned, but took the message anyway.

There was one other thing weighing upon her mind. It was the Renaisian knight who had informed her of Renais' current political situation. He had said he was leading the remnants of the army and was awaiting either the Prince or Princess to return to command them. He looked pointedly at Eirika and she fought the instinct to flinch.

The knight knew who she was.

She couldn't hide from it any longer.

* * *

"My friends… I have not been truthful with you; I am not a noble who fled from marriage, nor am I a commoner with dreams of wealth. I cannot lie, not when there is so much at stake.

"As you know, Renais is in a state of upheaval. Most of the usurpers have been slain, but a few still remain and they are poisoning the kingdom. There are two forces other than them: the rebel army led by Prince Ephraim, and us.

"I know not all of you from Renais, there are those of you from Grado and Frelia. I will not hold you to this company if you do not wish to fight in the upcoming battle. That is, those of you who stay will be allying with Ephraim's group to reclaim the capital.

". . .It's hard to say it after so many years. It is wrong to lie, so here is the truth. As many of you have suspected, I am Eirika, not Ephraim, the daughter of the failed King Fado who has been assumed dead these past five years."

* * *

"You did the right thing, Princess."

"I doubt it. I would not have done so unless you had pressed me to do so."

"Ha ha."

"I remember you, now."

". . .Do you?"

"Yes, you are not a knight, but a general. The Silver Knight, Seth."

"Yes, I was called that once."

"Once? They once called me a princess."

"You have always been one."

"And you have always been a knight."


End file.
